


Alpha Dog

by young_thrills_and_kills



Series: Songfic Drabbles [1]
Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Angst, Chicago (City), Drabble, Kinda, M/M, Nighttime, Nostalgia, Pete's sad in this one and so am i, Post-Summer of Like, Rooftops, Songfic, Stream of Consciousness, Summer of Like, he's just reflecting on a rooftop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 15:27:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20744456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/young_thrills_and_kills/pseuds/young_thrills_and_kills
Summary: It’s for the best, he knows. If he’d told Patrick he was coming up here, he’d think that Pete was going to the roof to fling himself off. It wouldn’t be the first time— ‘Trick’s used to talking him off ledges at this point. But Patrick wouldn’t just try and stop Pete from jumping: he’d also try and get him to come down.Pete doesn’t want to come down.~~~~~~Scene: a hotel rooftop in Chicago, Illinois. A short drabble about never quite being able to let go. Post-Summer of Like.





	Alpha Dog

Pete stands on the edge of the roof, the wind ruffling his hair. 

The sky crinkles with midnight stars towards the horizon, the moon a delicate, suspended sliver of silver light partially illuminating the gridwork of city streets below. Most of the stars are faded into the backdrop— light pollution, he thinks absentmindedly. The city bustles thirteen stories below his feet, horns honking faintly and, in the distance, a trace of a siren. He feels a step removed from it all, gazing down on the streetlights listlessly, like some foreign god. 

He grew up in this city, but it’s forgotten him. Dwelling on that isn’t doing him any favors, but he can’t help it. It’s just how he’s wired: his brain worries at the problem like a dog with a bone, unable to let go and impossible to distract. 

Shaking himself out of his reverie, he aimlessly kicks a nearby pebble off the rim, watching it shrink as it falls soundlessly towards the sidewalk. He loses sight of it before it hits pavement. 

He isn’t going to jump, but he’s not sure how much he would care if he fell. Not that he will, of course. His old boots may be battered, but the rubber soles stick so stubbornly to the concrete that Pete’s worried he might need to peel them off with his hands to get anywhere. 

No one knows he’s up here, not even Patrick, who thinks he’s out getting drinks with a friend from high school. When Pete told him, Patrick’s face had brightened. _ That’s great, Pete, _ he’d said, grinning. _ You’ve been a little down lately. It’s good that you’re getting out. _ Pete felt nausea burn through his gut as he nodded along. He hated lying to Patrick.

It’s for the best, he knows. If he’d told Patrick he was coming up here, he’d think that Pete was going to the roof to fling himself off. It wouldn’t be the first time— ‘Trick’s used to talking him off ledges at this point. But Patrick wouldn’t just try and stop Pete from jumping: he’d also try and get him to come down. 

Pete doesn’t want to come down. 

There’s only one person in the world Pete wants up on this rooftop with him, and he might as well be an ocean away. He closes his eyes and breathes in the night air, imagining, just for a minute, that he’s caught a whiff of Mikey’s cologne. Of course, when he opens his eyes, hoping against all hope that Mikey’s materialized beside him, he’s still alone, the night wrapping him in frigid air and quiet.

Mikey could help. He’d slip his hand into Pete’s, smile that sweet, mysterious smile of his, and lean up against him. He wouldn’t say anything. But he’d sit there, something warm and solid for Pete to ground himself with and calm the million thoughts running old race tracks through the curves of his mind. Then, Pete would look up at him, he’d blush and glance away, and Pete would lean in a little closer—

No.

Pete shakes himself, like he's trying to wake from a deep sleep. Not anymore. It’s over. His mind wanders to writing, _ you could write another song about him, you know _ tickling at the back of his mind. 

A brisk, cold wind hits him like a slap in the face, nudging the idea away. He's written too much about Mikey by now anyway. He wraps his arms around himself and breathes in the night air, glancing musingly towards the darkening Chicago skyline. They’re only here for a night. Better enjoy it while he can.   


**Author's Note:**

> This is just a crazy short drabble I've had in my drafts for ages, and finally decided to publish. Not technically a songfic of Alpha Dog, but I think the tone of the song fits with the fic pretty well. 
> 
> Also, on an unrelated note, I'm going to be doing virtuevalentine's October prompt list! I might not post everything I write, but I am planning on doing short stories for each of the prompts, so keep an eye out for that!
> 
> Kudos and comments are, as always, greatly appreciated!


End file.
